Unexpected
by suburbantimewaster
Summary: When Scarlett Rivera applies for a secretarial job under Willy Wonka, he hires her as an artist instead. Torn between society's beliefs and her own desires, she finds herself drawn to the charming and enigmatic chocolatier. Will Willy Wonka's world be too much for her, or will she learn to expect the unexpected? 1971!movie verse.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm trying to continue my Lorax fanfic but a couple of plot bunnies won't leave my brain. One for Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and the other Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. So, I'm just going to get the first chapter out of each one and hope to put both stories on hold for a while. First I'd like to thank kaafan10 from deviantart for role-playing Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and renewing my interest in Willy Wonka. I'd also like to thank mircosedy for talking about it with me and encouraging me to write this fanfic. I don't own anything, save for a few original characters.

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><p>Scarlett Rivera looked through her sketchbook, hoping to calm herself down. Today was the day of the job interview and to say she was nervous was an understatement. Sure it was just a job for being a common secretary but it was the great Willy Wonka himself who needed one. Scarlett had no experience working in this field, so she was a little surprised when he called her back for an interview.<p>

Scarlett held her sketchbook to her breasts and took a deep breath while looking around the room. It was peculiar with the yellow walls and the floor covered in a red carpet like a movie star would come in any second. There was only one window and it was covered with squares of all different colors.

Then a scary thought occurred to her. Maybe Mr. Wonka wasn't looking for a competent secretary, maybe he just wanted eye candy. He was a candy man after all. If that was the case, Scarlett definitely wasn't getting the job. While her face was round, soft and pale with her cheeks covered in a peach blush accompanied by blood red lips and her dull brown almond shaped eyes were surrounded by a dark eyeliner that created the wing effect and a few fake eyelashes to finish it off; her shoulder-length hair was mouse brown and her figure was practically a stick with little to no curves and small breasts. Scarlett's best feature was her shapely legs but she couldn't dress to show them off. However, she did make sure to look professional with a white shirt, a white long sleeve jacket that she buttoned up and a long white flowing skirt with her legs covered in nylon stockings that were the same color as her skin and white stiletto pumps to finish the look off.

"Miss Rivera," Mr. Wonka called from his office.

Scarlett left her sketchbook on the stairway rail and grabbed her black string knit purse. She took a big gulp and entered, wobbling a little. Maybe she should've listened to her roommate and wore flat pumps. The walls of Mr. Wonka's office were white with yellow stripes covered in flowers with a wooden desk leaning on the far wall stacked with papers, a bust and a cigar holder with a fresh cigar. In the chair was a man with untamed curly blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, Willy Wonka himself. With the white long sleeve shirt, lilac vest, giant gray bowtie and tan pants he was wearing, Mr. Wonka did not look like an entrepreneur. If he was wearing the purple trench coat on the coat rack near the door, the tan hat kept on the statue on his desk and carrying the wooden cane laid next to the coat rack, he'd look like a circus ring leader. Despite Mr. Wonka's strange attire, he carried a dignified presence that made Scarlett feel small, even when he was sitting down.

"H-hi," Scarlett said nervously in her smooth southern accent trying to keep still.

"Interesting accent," Mr. Wonka noted with a deep alluring voice and a charming smile, turning to face her. "And your name is Scarlett?"

"Like Scarlett O'Hara," Scarlet said with a nervous smile, her heart pounding like mad. "Regular southern belle."

Yeah, she wished. The only things she and Scarlett O'Hara could possibly have in common were the name and accent.

"Oh, so you've read the book," Mr. Wonka said sounding interested.

"Yeah, I love Scarlett O'Hara," Scarlett said confidently, thinking this interview might go easier than she thought. "She's beautiful, she's-"

Mr. Wonka's smile disappeared. "Did you just say that she was beautiful?" he asked.

"You didn't think so?" Scarlett said, confused. Scarlett O'Hara wasn't beautiful? What kind of women could this man get that would make him think such a thing?

"In the movie, yes," Mr. Wonka explained. "Not in the book."

Scarlett's face turned bright red. So, that's what he meant. Mr. Wonka turned to the papers on his desk and started writing on the top one .

"Applicant lies if she thinks it will get her what she wants," Mr. Wonka mumbled loudly enough for Scarlett to hear. She couldn't tell if he didn't realize it or if he was doing it on purpose. Either way, it made Scarlett feel less like Mr. Wonka was interviewing her for a job and more like he was studying an animal at the Central Park Zoo.

"Actually, I wasn't lying to get the job. I just didn't want to sound stupid," Scarlett weakly defended.

"Her attempts to sound intelligent make her sound idiotic," Mr. Wonka mumbled as he continued writing, not even looking up from his paper. Scarlett couldn't tell if her face was red from anger or embarrassment. Then Mr. Wonka turned away from his paper and focused on Scarlett with a charming smile. "Do sit down, dear lady. You look a little unsteady."

Scarlett anxiously took the seat leaning on the left wall, trying to keep her balance. "Sorry, Sir, I have trouble walking in stilettos."

"Then why wear them?" Mr. Wonka asked.

"Because I wanted to look presentable," Scarlett answered proudly.

Mr. Wonka turned back to the paper on his desk and wrote ferociously on it. "Applicant sacrifices comfort for vanity."

Scarlett didn't know if Mr. Wonka was insane, stupid, or just plain mean.

"Mr. Wonka, are these questions really necessary?" Scarlett asked hesitantly.

"Au contraire, they tell me who you are as a person," Mr. Wonka said, turning his attention back to Scarlett with a charming smile, making Scarlett wonder if the man was bipolar. "However, we should get to the interview. So, what experience do you have working as a secretary."

"Actually, I'm a recent graduate of Columbia University," Scarlett said, hoping she can salvage this interview. "I'm a fast learner. Just ask my math professor. I didn't understand anything about the FOIL plan until my roommate explained it to me in a-."

"Applicant wastes interviewer's time with personal details," Wonka mumbled as he went back to writing on his paper. Scarlett couldn't tell if he was actually making notes or just scribbling on the paper.

"Mr. Wonka?" Scarlett asked hesitantly.

"Yes?" Mr. Wonka said with that same charming smile that Scarlett was starting to wonder was fake.

"If you... If you," Scarlet wasn't sure how to begin.

"What is it, my dear lady?" Mr. Wonka asked in a pleasant tone.

Scarlett took a cigarette from her purse and placed in her mouth. She lit it and took one puff, feeling her heartbeat slow.

"If you have to take notes, could you at least not mumble them loud enough for me to hear?" Scarlett asked Mr. Wonka politely.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I'm a tad bit hard of hearing," Mr. Wonka told her and then went back to his desk. "Applicant feels the need to tell her interviewer how he should do his job."

Apparently, Mr. Wonka's hearing was selective. Did he feel that he was so loaded the common people were beneath him?

"Why do you wish to apply for this job?" Mr. Wonka asked.

Great, how was she supposed to answer this question? It's like her roommate said, she couldn't tell the truth in these situations but, if her lie was too obvious, Mr. Wonka would catch her in the act. Scarlett took another puff and cleared her throat.

"Well, I think it will be a valuable experience working with you," Scarlett began, and that was no lie. At least, it would've been before these events took place. "I also would like to expand my horizons, get to know people and become a little less shy." That was partially true. "I also need money for food and rent, so how much does this job pay?" Okay, that last part really didn't need to be said out loud.

Mr. Wonka kept his same charming demeanor. "Thank you for your time, my dear lady."

Scarlett got up from her chair, trying to steady herself in her stilettos.

"That's it? That was the entire interview?" Scarlett asked.

Mr. Wonka took the cigar from its holder and put it in his mouth. "I believe I have everything I need," he said as he lit it.

"That's great, I hope to..." Scarlett began, tightening her grip on her purse excitedly which instantly softened. "Wait a minute, I didn't get the job."

Mr. Wonka returned to his paper with the lit cigar in his mouth. Then took a puff out of it.

"She's also very observant," he mumbled while writing on his paper.

This was the last straw. Scarlett left the office and slammed the door in a fit of rage. Then she left the building and smoked the last few puffs of her cigarette. How could that man be so charming and so rude at the same time? Sure, the interview hadn't been going well but he didn't have to make it obvious and then hide it at the same time. One thing Scarlett absolutely knew, she liked the candy better than the candy man. Even if it would be a long time before she could eat another Wonka bar.

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><p>The door slam jolted Willy as he put his pen down. He didn't think that the shrieking violet would be capable of that. Sure, she did point out what he was doing wrong but she mustered it with all the courage of a shopkeeper trying to tell a robber to please point the gun someplace else. Willy took another puff from his cigar, letting the smoke relax him. He never thought he'd interview so many bad applicants in one day. Some women were unskilled and thought that Willy would hire them simply because of their looks, while others acted like Willy would slap them if they said the slightest thing he didn't like. He thought about just letting someone else handle hiring a new secretary while he just focused on making candy. Then he realized that the man he put in charge of the interviews might hire one of the attractive women with no skills. It was amazing how far human superficiality could sink to.<p>

Willy put the cigar back in its holder and took his top hat from the statue, his coat from the rack and his cane from right beside it, thinking it might do him best to work on some new candies. As soon as he left his office, he saw a book in the waiting room. Maybe Miss Rivera, left something here. Willy leafed through it and was taken unaware by its contents. In the book were sketches of a country meadow, a few of the drawings were of Miss Rivera dressed as Scarlett O'Hara, her getting married to a man of handsome built while an angry woman glared at them in a bridesmaid dress, a disheveled man living in a box on the street with a sign saying "give me change," and a few drawings of the wrappers for his chocolate. Willy couldn't help but notice that Miss Rivera took the time to draw new candy wrapper designs and this woman applied to be his secretary?

"Who would have thought that such a timid girl could hide such a bold talent?"

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><p>AN: Well, what do you think? I hope I got Wilder!Wonka in character. Just so you know, this story doesn't have a beta-reader. What I like to do is post the first chapter and then find a beta-reader so I don't have to worry about someone stealing my story. I've also been using azaleas dolls to recreate my OCs and as covers for my stories on fanfiction. I'd rather you didn't use them as a reference for what my characters look like, because it's not 100% accurate on account of they won't let you create anything less than a model on that website. Yes, I'm aware that everything in Willy Wonka's office is chopped in half but this takes place before the movie, so he hasn't got around to it yet. Also, this takes place in 1959 and I've been watching Mad Men and looking up 50s stuff to get a better idea of the time period. That said, I don't agree with the views expressed in this fanfic but I do believe it staying true to the era you're writing in, and that's what I intend to do. Oh, and I've never read or seen Gone With The Wind. However, my mother does love the book and the movie, so that's where I got the information from.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I'd like to thank Mircosedy for reviewing, favoriting and following. I'd also like to thank Turrislucidus for reviewing and following. Another set of thank yous goes out to MischievousAngel0923, Satine Gold, Rg2104, angelic13demon, and MirandaRose22 for following. My final set goes to LoverXxofxXReading, HarryPottersmystry, and Vibia Matidia for favoriting and following. I made notes for this story, so I have it all planned out. It's just a shame that I can't share them with anyone. I've been watching _Mad Men_ in order to get a feel for the decade I'm writing in, so in the last chapter I changed pantyhose to nylon stockings. Great show, hope you check it out for yourselves. If you recognize it from the movie, I don't own it.

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><p>Scarlett's foot nudged the accelerator of her blue, white topped, silver trimmed 1957 Chevy Bel Air until she topped the speed limit. The car seated four, the backseats never being used and, if her roommate were in the front seat, she'd be screaming at Scarlett to slow down. But she wasn't, something Scarlett was relieved about, because this time, her roommate's cries wouldn't be enough to offset her anger.<p>

When she parked outside of her large, square, apartment building, Scarlett slammed on the brakes. She slammed the car door with all the strength she could muster, and wanted nothing more than to get home as soon as possible. Thankfully, no one was using the lift.

It was a relief to reach her homey apartment, with its built in fireplace, bay window, and yellow curtains, but Scarlett could hear that her roommate's day was going no better than hers.

In her thick, Costa Rican accent, Maria Gonzalez was yelling into the phone. "You're the one who left me for your hot new secretary, so don't go blaming everything on me!"

Scarlett threw her keys on the bookshelf to the right of the bay window, as Maria continued yelling at her ex-husband over the phone, a regular event.

"No, I don't want you back! I just want you to start catching up on your alimony payments!"

Scarlett leaned back on the red couch. Maria continued yelling, leaving Scarlett to wonder if separated couples were always so bitter and angry.

"Sweetie-pie, after putting up with you, I'm entitled to a little compensation!"

Scarlett put a cigarette to her mouth and lit it, inhaling the rich smoke as she listened.

"No, I'm not trying to bleed you dry! I just want enough money to pay next month's rent!" Scarlett flicked the ash of her cigarette into the ashtray on the wooden coffee table in front of her. "If that's how you feel, then good-bye!"

Scarlett heard a loud click from the kitchen.

"I don't know why I even bother," Maria muttered as she entered the living room, smiling as soon as she saw Scarlett. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

Maria put a cigarette between her dark red lips, lit it, and took a drag.

"Trouble with your ex-husband?" Scarlett asked as she took her own drag.

Maria sighed. "How could you ever guess?"

"Y'all shouting about alimony payments was a big tip off," Scarlett said.

Maria twirled her curly shoulder-length black hair around her finger. "You'd think, after five years of marriage, he'd at least follow through on his responsibilities."

"Well, you know what they say, better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all," Scarlett stated.

Maria took the seat next to her. "Whoever said that must never have fallen in love," she muttered bitterly.

"You'll find a new guy," Scarlett told her hopefully.

"Not many men are willing to marry a woman over thirty," Maria said in a melancholy tone.

In Maria's case, Scarlett found that hard to believe. Maria was Costa Rican, with a light-olive complexion, and a smooth, feminine, oval-shaped face. She wore light-pink blush on her cheeks. Dark eyeliner and sapphire-blue eye shadow accented her chocolate-brown eyes. Maria wore a bright red button down shirt that did nothing to hide her buxom curves, and a warm brown skirt that stopped at her knees, showing off her divine, hourglass figure. A pair of nylon stockings that matched her skin covered her legs, and she wore a pair of black, stiletto heels. When it came to beauty, Maria rivaled Marilyn Monroe. If a man could leave Maria, a man could leave anyone.

"So, how'd your interview go?" Maria asked.

"In a word, awful," Scarlett said, flicking her cigarette ash into the ashtray.

"Why, what happened?"

"Well, for starters, I choked on the interview," Scarlett explained.

Maria gestured with the cigarette in her hand. "I need a little more to go on than that."

"I lied about reading a book, went into a little too much detail about my personal life, and then I asked Mr. Wonka how much money the job pays," Scarlett explained. "None of this would have been so bad, if Mr. Wonka hadn't insisted on taking notes about what I did wrong, and mumbled them loud enough for me to hear him."

"So, Wonka's a prick," Maria said as she took a long, languorous puff on her cigarette. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Actually, it was weird," Scarlett said, the incident replaying in her mind. "One second, he was being polite and charming, and the next he was rude and obnoxious."

"Sounds like Wonka's a bipolar nut job," Maria said supportively. "Did he at least like your artwork?"

"Actually," Scarlett began hesitantly, "I applied to be his secretary."

Maria put a hand to her mouth as she coughed violently. "You what!" Maria exclaimed. "I thought you were going to apply for the artist position!"

"I changed my mind at the last minute," Scarlett explained, feeling a cough coming on herself.

"Why?"

"It's like my mom says," Scarlett said, coughing. "No man wants to marry a woman more successful than he is."

"That's why you aim for the men more successful than you are," Maria told her.

"No, those men want trophy wives," Scarlett responded as she inhaled her cigarette. "Besides, I was already angry Mr. Wonka rejected me as his secretary." With distaste she flicked her smoldering cigarette ash into the ashtray. "Imagine how I'd be if he didn't like my art."

Just then the phone rang. Maria answered it immediately.

"What do you want?" she growled harshly, then turned apologetic as she blushed. "Sorry, I thought you were someone else."

There followed a few moments of silence.

"Yeah, she's here." Maria handed the phone to Scarlett and winked. "Some guy. Looks like you've got a gentleman caller."

"Thank you," Scarlett said to Maria as she put the phone to her ear. "May I ask who's calling?"

"Hello, Miss Rivera," said a suave, alluring voice Scarlett would recognize anywhere.

"Mr. Wonka," Scarlett replied. "Is this about the interview?"

Maria's jaw dropped along with her lit cigarette.

"Actually, I'm calling about a far more exciting opportunity," Mr. Wonka told her as Maria scrambled for her cigarette on the carpet. "Are you aware that you left your sketchbook in the cloak room?"

"Oh, that," Scarlett said, going scarlett. She'd forgotten all about that. "I'm really sorry. I'll come pick it up."

"Perhaps you can come tomorrow on your first day of work," Mr. Wonka told her, with a smirk in his voice.

"First day?" Scarlett said, confused as she pressed the phone closer to her ear. "I don't understand."

"Have I not made myself clear?" Mr. Wonka replied. "I want to hire you."

"But you made it clear you weren't calling me back," Scarlett responded.

"Clearly, that was before I saw your sketchbook."

"What?" Scarlett said in disbelief, wanting to pinch herself.

"Your talent lies far more in secretarial work than it does in creative work," Mr. Wonka told her, confusing Scarlett even more. "No, strike that, reverse it."

"So, you're assuming that I'm going to agree to come work for you?" Scarlett said nervously.

"I suppose I _should_ ask first," Mr. Wonka said. "Miss Rivera, would you come work for me as an artist?"

"As swell as working for you as an artist would be," Scarlett began, twirling the cord with her finger, "I'm not sure if..."

Maria retrieved her cigarette and grabbed the phone before Scarlett could finish.

"She'd love to," Maria said into the phone. "So, Mr. Wonka, are you still looking for a new secretary?"

Scarlett was so dumbstruck by what had happened she didn't even hear what Maria was saying until the end of the conversation.

"Great, I'll be there, bye," Maria said as she hung up the phone with a smile. "What a day. You get to be an artist, and I might have a new job."

Before Scarlett could untie her tongue enough to ask what happened, Maria went to the kitchen and came back with two bars of Wonka chocolate

Scarlett grabbed a bar. "Why did you do that?"

"I wanted to celebrate, and Wonka chocolate seemed appropriate," Maria answered as she unwrapped her bar. "Mind if I turn on the TV? It's almost time for _As The World Turns_."

"Go ahead," Scarlett answered absentmindedly. "I mean, why did you tell Mr. Wonka that I would work for him?"

"Sweetie, are you kidding me? Willy Wonka asked you to work for him as an artist, and you were about to say no," Maria said as she walked over to the TV in front of them and turned it on. "I couldn't let that happen."

"What if he doesn't like my work?" Scarlett worried. "He'll fire me without a second thought."

"Honey, he wouldn't even think of hiring you if he didn't think you have talent," Maria told her as she went back in her seat. "Now stop talking negative– my show's on."

"Yeah, because nothing negative happens on this show," Scarlett said sardonically.

"What you call negative, I call riveting drama," Maria shot back. "Now be quiet."

Scarlett took a bite of her chocolate and let it slowly melt in her mouth. Maria just bit into the chocolate and chewed it, enraptured with the show, while Scarlett found herself lost in the sweet taste of chocolaty goodness. She didn't really consider soap operas entertaining, but Maria loved them.

"So, are you serious about becoming Mr. Wonka's secretary?" Scarlett asked as soon as a commercial break started.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," Scarlett said, wondering how she should put this, "it's just that, the last guy you worked for was your ex-husband and he—,"

"Ended up leaving me for the blonde bimbo he hired to replace me. Is that what you mean?" Maria said bitterly. "I've learned my lesson, and from what you said about Willy Wonka, he doesn't sound like my type."

"If you say so."

"Plus, we don't even know if he'll hire me."

"Trust me, he will," Scarlett said, nodding to herself. All Maria would have to do is walk into Mr. Wonka's office and she'd get the job instantly. Meanwhile, Scarlett would walk into the building, draw something Mr. Wonka wouldn't like and lose the job.

Scarlett was definitely not looking forward to her first day on the job.

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><p>AN: **Scarlett now has her own Tumblr account at scarlettrivera1971 . tumblr . com. Remove the spaces. **How do you like Maria? Those of you who've read _How Bad Could It Be_ should recognize her. Yes, I do have a tendency to reuse the same OCs, but I had to make her lighter skinned in this fanfic becausepeople considered Hispanics a nationality in the fifties. They considered a light-skinned Hispanic white–that's why Desi Arnaz got away with being married to Lucille Ball on television–and I like to stay true to the time period I'm writing in. Personally, I don't think marriage is important, but it was everything to women in the fifties.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: If you recognize it from the Wonka community, I don't own it. I'd like to thank bL00DpRINC3SS for reviewing and following, mircosedy for reviewing, blushingpixie for favoriting and following, opalwolf12 for following, HalloweenSpell for reviewing and following, bella cullen the original for favoriting, Sonata IX for reviewing and following my story, Cassandra-Luna-Bellatrix-Snape for favoriting and following and GirlWhoTookNightlock for following. My final thank you goes to my beta-reader.

Let me tell you, I'm really into this story. It's to the point where I occasionally find myself speaking in a southern accent. I also realized that, since I'm writing a fanfic for a live-action movie, I'll have to change the character's outfits, except for Willy Wonka's because he's peculiar enough to wear the same outfit. Just gives me an excuse to keep playing doll maker games. I also found a website that tells you what your favorite color says about you, which will be very helpful.

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><p>"I don't know what I was thinking," Maria said, all shaken up, and soaked from the rain, as she and Scarlett entered the Cloak Room. "Letting you drive us over here. I must have lost my mind."<p>

"So I go a little fast," Scarlett said, taking her pink raincoat off to reveal a white blouse, and a brown, flowing skirt. "We're still alive."

"Barely," Maria muttered, as she took her orange raincoat off to reveal a maroon dress, cut just above her knees, with short, poofy sleeves. "Sweetie, you may act like a polite little Southern Belle most of the time, but behind the wheel, you're a maniac."

"Says the girl who flirted with the traffic-ticket officer," Scarlett said, as she put her raincoat on one of the hangers that resembled a hand, and watched it grab her coat.

"Hon, it was either that, or let you get a ticket," Maria said, while Scarlett stared at the hooks. "And I don't remember you trying to stop me."

"Did you see that?" Scarlett asked.

"See what?" Maria said, as she put her raincoat on the hangar, and the hand grabbed it.

"That," Scarlett said, astonished. She then put her pink cloche hat on one of the hangars to watch it do the same.

"Yeah, that is weird," Maria said absentmindedly, as she put her matching orange cloche hat on another hangar.

"That's all you can say?" Scarlett said, examining the hangars.

"What else is there?"

"We're in the waiting room, and the hangars are hands that can grab your clothes," Scarlett said, fascinated. "It doesn't make you wonder about what other surprises this factory has in store?"

Maria shrugged. "Honey, I really don't care."

"Glad to see you find my hangars so fascinating, Miss Rivera," said a suave voice from behind Scarlett.

Scarlett turned around to see Mr. Wonka, and smiled nervously, while brushing her hair back with her fingers.

Maria took one glance at Mr. Wonka, and then at Scarlett with a look that said, "Does he seriously dress like that?"

Scarlett nodded her head at Maria in response.

"Hello, Mr. Wonka," Scarlett said, unsure of what else to say. Then she remembered what her mother taught her, and swept her right foot behind her left, and bent forward, while holding the hem of her skirt up an inch or two with her right hand.

Maria rolled her eyes at the old fashioned curtsey.

"You must be Miss Gonzalez," Mr. Wonka said, holding out his hand for Maria to shake, which she did.

"Yeah, we spoke over the phone, remember?" Maria said, still trying to get over Mr. Wonka's clothes.

"You'll forgive me for putting off your interview, dear lady, but I need to show Miss Rivera to the Art Department," Mr. Wonka told her, giving Maria a small glance, and turning his attention to Scarlett

"Sure, go ahead," Maria said, as she took a seat and retrieved a magazine from the table.

"Right this way, my lady," Mr. Wonka said, as he led Scarlett to a wooden door and opened it to reveal a long pink corridor.

Scarlett anxiously followed him through the bright pink corridor. With every twist and turn, the factory felt like a labyrinth.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Scarlett asked, and then regretted it when Mr. Wonka looked back at her in disbelief, causing her to nervously laugh. "Of course you do. It is your Factory."

"So, you decided to wear high heels," Mr. Wonka said, noticing her shoes. "You seem to balance much better in them today, than you did yesterday."

"Y'all remembered?" Scarlett said anxiously, as she felt herself becoming less balanced. "Now I'm back to having problems."

Scarlett just laughed it off, as Mr. Wonka gave her a charming smile and stopped in front of a large wooden door.

"Miss Rivera, when you were examining the coat hangers, you wondered what other surprises my Factory had in store," Mr. Wonka told her.

"Oh, you heard that," Scarlett said, turning bright red. "Of course you did. You saw me looking at them. So, I take it there's one big surprise behind this door?"

"What's beyond this door must be believed to be seen," Mr. Wonka said, as he opened the door to reveal a room that Scarlett could never imagine in her wildest dreams.

With lollipop trees, giant candy canes, and even bushes with tea cups, it was the most beautiful and bizarre room Scarlett ever saw. There was even a waterfall that poured into a river made of a dark brown substance, with men taking water from it and adding cream and sugar, or just sugar, to the dirty looking water. They looked happy to work in the factory of the eccentric chocolatier, which was good, because with Mr. Wonka's factory huge, and the town small, Mr. Wonka employed a good portion of the town's population. One of them, a skinny and pale freckled red-head, put a cigarette in his mouth and was about to light it until Mr. Wonka spoke up.

"Mr. Miller, what have I said about smoking in the factory?"

"Do it in the hallway, not in The Chocolate Room," Mr. Miller answered. "Sorry, Mr. Wonka."

"Especially not when you're near the chocolate river," Mr. Wonka continued. "Could you imagine if you got cigarette ashes in my chocolate?"

So that's what that water was. To Scarlett, it actually made sense.

"Right, of course, Mr. Wonka," the man said, as he left the room

"Places where you ain't allowed to smoke?" Scarlett asked, closing her eyes and inhaling the sweet aroma of candy. "It's a peculiar concept, but I can see why you wouldn't allow it in here."

"I take it you're quite impressed with this room, Miss Rivera," Mr. Wonka told her.

"I feel like I'm in Wonderland," Scarlett answered, in awe.

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><p>Maria flipped through an old copy of <em>Vogue<em>. Mr. Wonka had a decent magazine collection, for a weird guy. On the table next to the chair were fashion magazines, sports magazines, and some short story magazines. She even recognized a science fiction/fantasy magazine that Scarlett subscribed to, though it really wasn't Maria's thing. The only problem with Mr. Wonka's collection was that it was outdated. The issue of _Vogue_ in Maria's hands was from 1950. Then again, considering Mr. Wonka's taste in fashion, it was amazing that the issue was from this decade.

"Hello, Beautiful," an arrogant voice said.

Maria looked up from her magazine to see that the voice belonged to a well-dressed man, with a young, pretty-boy face, complete with an arrogant smirk, and sandy brown hair, groomed back from his forehead, showing a very noticeable widow's peak. He was of average height, with an athletic build, and held a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"The name's Maria," she told him disdainfully.

The man either didn't notice her tone, or pretended not to, because he still had that same irritating smirk as he took a long drag from his white stick.

"I'm Martin," he said, in a tone that suggested that people hung on his every word. "I make this Factory what it is."

"I thought I already met Willy Wonka," Maria said absentmindedly, as she held her hand out and examined her manicured fingernails covered in the same red polish as her lipstick.

"You're right, I'm not him, but I'm the reason his chocolate sells so well," Martin continued, in that same arrogant voice as before. He took the seat next to her. "Ask Wonka himself, and he'll tell you: 'If it weren't for Martin, I'd still be a poor man selling candy on the street.'"

Maria scooted as far away from the guy as she could. "How nice for you," she told him sardonically.

"Nice for you too, Beautiful," he told her with a smile. "You get to have dinner with the top salesman of Wonka Industries."

"Sorry, hon. I don't date married men," Maria told him with a hint of anger, as she indicated the wedding ring on his finger.

"What my wife doesn't know won't hurt her," Martin told her, putting his hand on her leg.

"My answer's still no," Maria said, taking his hand off her leg and glaring at him. What had she done to deserve this? And where was Scarlett? Or better yet, Wonka? The man better get back here soon, and call off his dog.

* * *

><p>The Chocolate Room properly appreciated, Wonka had returned with Scarlett to the halls, passing room after room.<p>

"Cows that give chocolate milk?" Scarlett said, reading a sign on one of the doors in the corridor. "It sounds impossible."

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," Mr. Wonka said.

"Sherlock Holmes," Scarlett said in recognition.

"Have you read that, or are you pretending you have?"

Scarlett ran her hand over her hair with a nervous laugh. "That, I've actually read."

"Really?" Mr. Wonka said, with a challenging smile, while leaning on his cane. "Sherlock Holmes' trademark outfit is his Inverness cape and deerstalker hat."

Scarlett laughed. "That's a common misconception," she said, putting her hand on her hip. "He only wore the deerstalker in the country. In town, in the evenings, he wore a top hat ... like yours."

With a smile, Mr. Wonka put a hand to his hat, before continuing the inquisition. "What was Watson's profession before he met Holmes?"

"Army surgeon, in Afghanistan. Sherlock Holmes figured that out when he shook his hand," Scarlett said, remembering how _A Study in Scarlet_ began.

"Isn't Watson just a fat man who just tagged along with Holmes and got in the way?" Mr. Wonka asked.

"No, Watson was of average intelligence, and a ladies man, who might have been married as many as three times," Scarlett said, pleased to show off her knowledge of the books. She always found Sherlock Holmes to be the sexier of the two, but Mr. Wonka didn't need to know that.

Mr. Wonka tipped his hat to her. "Congratulations, Miss Rivera, you passed."

"Thank you," Scarlett said, feeling a blush on her cheeks. "Would it be all right if I saw the cows?"

"Another time," Mr. Wonka told her, as they continued down the corridor, passing rooms such as "Hot Ice Cream for Cold Days."

"For people who crave ice cream on cold days," Mr. Wonka explained. "I also have 'Hot Ice Cubes for Hot Drinks.'"

Then they passed a room whose sign said: "Square Candies That Look Round."

"Ah yes, my 'Round Candies that Look Square,'" Mr. Wonka said proudly. "No, strike that, reverse it."

"What do you mean, 'they look round?'" Scarlett asked, curiosity overtaking her.

"See for yourself, dear lady," Mr. Wonka said, gesturing to the glass above the door.

Scarlett looked through the glass to see small white sugar cubes, with a pink smiley face, and eyeballs drawn on every single one.

"They're adorable!" Scarlett cooed. "But, if you don't mind me saying, they don't really look round."

Scarlett felt a presence behind her as Mr. Wonka whispered into her ear. "Watch." Then he knocked on the door. Scarlett could feel his warm breath on her skin. The candies eyeballs looked around, and Scarlett giggled.

"Oh, square candies that _look _round," Scarlett said. "That's so cute!"

"Glad you think so," Mr. Wonka said, as Scarlett turned around, blushing when she realized just how close she was to Mr. Wonka. He took his hand off the door, backing away while maintaining his cool.

Once again, Scarlett followed him down the corridor, until they finally arrived at the Art Room.

"Now, dear lady, we've reached the final stop on our tour," Mr. Wonka said, with another charming smile. He took off his hat, and held it to his chest, but he didn't open the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Wonka," Scarlett said, and then added one more thing before she could stop herself. "You're very different from what I thought."

"Different in what way?" Mr. Wonka asked.

Scarlett gulped. Did she really have to say that out loud? "Just different," she told him nervously.

"In what way?" Mr. Wonka repeated, his bright blue eyes gazing into her dull brown ones.

"Well..." Scarlett began hesitantly. "Yesterday, you were a little rude."

"Ah, yes," Mr. Wonka said. "I'm terribly sorry about that, dear lady, but you caught me on a bad day."

Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief. "I guess now, I caught you on a good day."

"That you have, dear lady, that you have," Mr. Wonka said, as he turned to leave.

"Mr. Wonka," Scarlett said.

"Yes?"

"I-I was just wondering, if I was going to get my sketchbook back," Scarlett asked.

"You'll have that by the end of the day, Miss Rivera," Mr. Wonka said, and then he left.

Scarlett retrieved a cigarette from her purse and took one long puff from it as she stared at the door. Well, here goes nothing, Scarlett thought and then opened it.

* * *

><p>As Willy made his way to the Cloak Room, he thought about Miss Rivera. In a strange way, she wasn't what he expected either, and not just with her artistic talents. She was fascinated with every detail of his Factory; from the coat hangers to the Chocolate Room, and, from what he'd overheard of her conversation with Miss Gonzalez, there was a dark side to this polite Southern Belle. He'd also got a whiff of her hair when they were looking at the Square Candies, and it had smelled like strawberries. Strawberries go well with chocolate.<p>

Miss Gonzalez, on the other hand, seemed like just a pretty face, with nothing below the surface. She had no interest in the Factory's wonders, and immediately picked up a fashion magazine when she was told to wait. She was the type of woman Willy would have been all over when he was younger, and foolishly believed that a nice physical appearance was the equivalent of true beauty. Still, he needed a secretary, and, if Miss Gonzalez was qualified, she'd get the job. Willy was about to open the door to the Cloak Room, until he found himself coughing violently.

* * *

><p>AN: So, what do you think? For those of you who haven't read the book, that's where the "Square Candies that Look Round" came from. It's also where I got the "Hot Ice Cream for Cold Days," "Hot Ice Cubes for Hot Drinks" and "Cows that Give Chocolate Milk." I hope I didn't make Willy Wonka seem like a creepy stalker, and, just so you know, there's no love between Willy Wonka and Scarlett right now. It's just a simple attraction, and I hope I did well with the chemistry. One last question, how short do you think a chapter should be? This chapter's slightly over six pages, but I feel like I should be writing them longer.


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